Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Wanda wakes to a new reality about herself and slips into a world of domination by the men in her life.

"So that's it," Jacob said.

"What the hell do you mean that's it?"

"Just what I said, I'll come by after work tomorrow for my things."

"So you are just going to walk out on me and the kids?" I was furious.

"I'm not walking out on the kids, just you. Look Wanda, we have tried but it's just not working anymore."

"It's another woman right, someone who does the things I don't?"

"You know that was never an issue with me. It's just that we aren't going to make it. It's better to end it now than to keep putting it off."

"Jacob, we have been married for sixteen years. I'm almost forty. The time to have done this was when I still had a chance at starting over. Damn you. if you are so hell bent to go, then just go."

...

"And that's how it ended. All those years and he just walked away." I said it to the younger African American woman. Even though I had known her for two years, it was the first time we had a really personal conversation.

"Men can be such selfish bastards. At least Rodney isn't like that yet."

Rodney was her husband. He was also a tall good looking black man at least five years younger than me. I knew them from band concerts at my son's high school. Darren and Charlie both played in the band and were almost friends. The four of us had spent a great deal of time together, while waiting for the kids to set up before the concerts or clean up after.

"So," Layla said, "Let's go get some coffee while the kids make their noises." It wasn't anything new. We had gone out to coffee or lunch while they setup and practiced for the regional or state honors band. Both Layla's son and Charlie were talented it seemed.

"What about your husband?"

"Would you mind if he comes along. If he does, he will pay for the coffee. That's one of the things men are really good for, carrying the wallet. " jShe smiled and I got a chance to smile. There hadn't been many of those in the last 6 months... "Sure why not." I agreed.

Neither of us was familiar with the place, since it was an out of town regional band contest. Since the town was a lot smaller than our hometown, we settled for a Waffle House Restaurant just off the interstate. Being on a heavy traveled road, no one paid any attention to the black man with both a black and white woman in tow.

"So how long has it been, since you and the ex had sex?" Layla asked.

I was a little embarrassed, since her husband was smiling a rather predatory smile. "Well over 6 months," I replied.

"I assume that he was the last one?" Rodney asked.

"Yes," I admitted. Even though our conversation was low, I felt like everyone in the restaurant was hanging on my every word.

"Does that seem like a long time?" Layla asked.

"Well at the end we weren't sleeping together, and I was so depressed that I didn't care.

"How do you feel about it now? Are you ready to try again?" she asked.

"I honestly don't know whether I'm ready or not."

"You should really become active again. Not just to prove to yourself that you are still desirable, but it's good therapy to out do the bastard." Rodney suggested.

"That sounds reasonable," I admitted. I didn't really feel that it was necessary, but I also didn't feel that it was inappropriate. I was really pretty ambiguous about it

"Do you have anyone in mind?" Layla asked.

"No, I really haven't met anyone since the divorce. The kid keep me on the go all the time. When he is with Jacob, I'm working all weekend. Those long shoots back to back wear me out. At least I don't have to hire anyone to stay with him."

"Wanda, I don't want you to dismiss this out of hand. I want you to think about it. You seem really uptight about sex. How about you come with us for a night? Let us be there for you."

"I don't understand?"

"Come be with Rodney and me. We are all friends, so there won't be any pressure. You do just what you feel like doing. Rodney is very gentle and patient."

"I just don't know how I feel about that," It took me a few second to grasp what she was suggesting. I wasn't upset I was just confused.

To make matters even more confusing Rodney moved from his wife's side of the booth to sit beside me. I froze solid when I felt his hand on my knee. Since there would be a concert that night, I had worn a skirt, rather than my usual jeans.

I felt his large hand move ever so slowly up my leg. Every move added to the anticipation. I wanted to stop him, I really did. I just couldn't find the strength to make a scene. Layla just smiled as his hand moved under my skirt and up to my panties.

"Her panties are wet," he said to his wife in a whisper. He acted as though I wasn't even there.

'You can't let her sit around in wet panties," she said it calmly and quietly.

I didn't resist as he hooked his finger in the crotch and then pulled them to my knees. First he ran a finger up and down my slit. I was soaked, so it was easy for him to move along the groove. My breathing was labored and I was choking back serious moans.

"That's enough Rodney, let her think about it now."

"Do you still need to think about it Wanda?" he asked.

I managed to choke out, "We can't do this."

"Well not tonight for sure," Rodney said with a wolfish grin. Then he bent and whispered in my ear. "We are going to love fucking you Wanda. We both love white women. Now give me your panties..." He saw the look of doubt in my eyes so he added. "I want them to remember this moment, and you want me to have them, so give them to me now."

I moved my legs under the table to slip them to the floor. It took some contorting, but I managed, with a foot to raise my panties t high enough to reach them with my hand. I slipped the wet cloth to Rodney under the table. Inside his large hand they were invisible as he slipped them into the pocket of his suit coat.

Later at the concert we sat together. Looking back, they seemed to be protecting me or at least trying to keep me isolated. The concert was held in a real theater in the county's consolidated high school's facility. The theater was much larger than necessary for the crowd of parents who had gathered to hear their children play. Where we chose to sit was not totally isolated, by any means, but there were no other parents crowded around us either. When the lights went down, Rodney took my hand and placed over his penis. I was more than a little afraid that I could be seen, so I tried to move my hand away, but he held it in place. At the same time Layla seemed to sense what was going on and put her hand on my thigh as if to reassure me. Since I was sandwiched between them I felt safe. I left my hand on his penis during the performance. He had an erection for what seemed like the entire concert. I have to admit even now that it was exciting. At the time it was an even larger turn on. Sitting there with my hand on his penis and my panties in his pocket made the concert fly by. I enjoyed it more than any of the other concert I had attended. Since it was a regional honors band the music was exceptional, but the feeling of Rodney's penis was even better.

I saw my son Charlie after the concert and told him our van was in the parking lot. I had clipped the orange pennant attached to a short wire onto the driver's side window. It was easy to install and made finding the van in a large parking lot at least possible To me all the mommy vans looked pretty much alike. A generic white van is how I described it to my clients and friends alike.

While I waited in the van for Charlie to say his goodbyes, Layla approached the van. She stood outside and said, "Please think about it Wanda. We both want you in our lives, but it has to be your decision. Don't let Rodney overwhelm you. Do it because you want to."

"I know Rodney is a man and this is what men do, but why you Layla? You don't seem to be gay."

"Rodney and I grew up poor, we aren't poor any more. I don't ever want to be poor again. If this is all it takes to keep him happy, then it is something I can live with. If he makes you feel better about yourself, you should go for it. Honestly Wanda, I do want you in our lives. I trust you not to take Rodney away. I can't say that about every white woman we meet."

"So you have done this before?"

"Yes twice. They tend to be very short affairs. I try to make sure it never get to the point that it threatens our marriage. I don't allow any nasty love triangle issues." She stopped there to looked me in the eye then add, "You do understand don't you?'

"You are saying, he can have all the sex he wants, but with no love involved."

"Exactly, think about it. I'll be in touch." She smiled warmly then walked away.

Charlie was excited and yakked it up for the first twenty minutes, then he fell silent. I knew that he was tired. Even a fifteen year old boy wears down after a while. Sometimes they seem to have all the energy in the world, but even they run out of steam eventually.

After Charlie finished his chattering I slipped into remembering how Rodney's fingers had felt on my body. I even remembered how his penis had felt in my hand. It was wicked, the things I had allowed him to do to me. Equally wicked were the things I had wanted to do for him. The problem for me was that I felt so good, I could not feel guilty enough. Not just the sexy play, but also the feeling of being wanted were a complete turn ons for me. That feeling of being desired might have been the really addictive part of it.